Room and Board
by TrylonAndPerisphere
Summary: Delphine lives in Switzerland at the turn of the millenium, where she goes to boarding school and receives advice from her dear grandmother, former secret agent Aurora Luft. Because I got SO MANY prompts and it was SOMEBODY's birthday. I can't believe I'm doing this while I'm still sweating away at my long work-in-progress, but here goes.
1. Chapter 1

"People can not only be good or evil, they can be both," Mémé Aurora used to tell me. "The hangman loves his children, and the deacon has a secret past."

She would know about secret pasts. She was a spy, once, when she was a young woman. She spent years undertaking dangerous missions in France and Belgium during World War Two. She still lived in Quebec, then, but flew all over. You might not know it to encounter her on the street. She is still, in her eighties, a striking woman. She is kind and smiles at everyone she meets. People don't realize that, under her outward sweetness, she is shrewdly evaluating them. They do not know that she and my pépère spend much of their time working behind the scenes to investigate and press for thoroughness in the Bergier commission, here in Switzerland. She tells me that, as down-to-earth and trusting as the residents of the villages in the Alps near my school may seem to be, there was widespread racial discrimination, rejection of Jewish refugees, and economic trading and compliance with the Nazis then, and anyone may have secrets.

Here is how my secret began.

It had been a regular day at school. I spent much of it in the lab, working on my biology studies. The boarding school I attended was well-known for its specialized training in the sciences, and having an international baccalaureate from a school where English, German and French were all spoken would help prepare me for not just my future studies, but, I hoped, my future career in science. With my mémé and pépère living outside of Geneva, the situation, I thought, would be ideal. I could see them on some weekends and holidays, which was always a balm for my soul. I had been an awkward child, taller than the rest, gangly, with glasses and braces, and quietly studious. I was disregarded by most of my peers, or, worse, treated with derision.

"You will be like me," Mémé Aurora would tell me. "One day you will wake up and, without having changed inside, everyone will find you beautiful. It can be useful, but don't let it go to your head." It was with her and Pépère I always felt most understood, most loved, despite mon père being a teaching doctor in the the sciences, as I was interested in doing. He was often caught up in his studies, absent-minded, and ma mère was often away on business, so although I had all the intellectual encouragement I might want, the house often seemed cold compared to visits with my grandparents, who paid careful attention to me and loved me fiercely.

My transition from ugly duckling had begun the previous year, and I still felt uncomfortable with it. Suddenly I was invited more often to social gatherings, or pursued for friendship or more by strangers. Inside, however, I was still me, and I followed Mémé Aurora's advice. I made a few more friends and had a bit more fun on holidays, but I never fully trusted others' motivations, and at school I still kept largely to my studies and myself. After all, I wasn't going to get an early doctorate if I didn't work at it.

As usual, my lab partner and best friend, Aida, was with me. Her parents were also working in Geneva, on legal and humanitarian issues following the Bosnian War. She also had undergone a blossoming, of sorts, growing from a nervous former refugee to a much more social animal, and, as usual, was trying to convince me to sneak off campus.

"Spring holidays aren't far off. I'd much rather be dragged to some of your parties then than get in trouble for leaving now," I told her.

"But Klaus has a car _now_ ," she pointed out, "and Heather is friends with some of the Americans training at the resort. You know they always have the best parties."

"Actually, I don't know that," I told her, making a note on my sample observations. "I only know what you tell me, which you know mostly by hearsay, yourself." She gave me a narrowed-eyed look.

"Don't be so boring, _darling,_ " she said in that way of hers, and I knew she was going to wear me down. The truth was, I was mostly nervous about the idea, not wanting to jeopardize my good standing at the school and still feeling awkward and suspicious at most gatherings of my "peers." But there was a little part of me, deep inside, that was excited and curious, that wanted to have some _fun_ , for a change. And Aida was all about fun.

That was how I found myself, a few days later, crammed into a car with several other students, winding up a pass high in the mountains. Almost everyone had already begun drinking and smoking weed, and were singing along at top volume to the music pumping from the speakers.

 _I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want_

 _So tell me what you want, what you really, really want_

 _I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha)_

 _I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah_

My eyes rolled into the back of my head. Four years and still no-one had gotten over this song. Aida swivelled from her place on the lap of the girl beside me and grabbed my shirt, shout/singing the verse about friendship at me dramatically. As much as I tried to keep a straight face, I eventually burst out laughing, which earned me a wide smile and an encouraging shake of my torso via my shirt until she let go of me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are here," Klaus announced with pomp and excitement, as we pulled up into the resort. A chorus of cheers went up from around me.

"Thank God, I have to pee like a racehorse," my best friend said, ever the charmer.

Klaus had gotten us a small cabin that should sleep no more than four, but we all piled in, everyone whooping and freshening up to go to the party. Aida handed me a beer.

"Time to get started, Cormier," she teased, "I know you need at least two drinks before that armour starts to crack." She wasn't wrong. I gave her a smirk and took a pull from the bottle.

Things quickly became a blur.

The party was in the dance club at the resort, and when we arrived, it had already started. Lights flashed and club music blasted, shaking my very heart with the force of the bass.

"Oh, _darling,_ " my friend said with uncontained glee, hooking an arm around my neck, " _look_ at all this. All this... _debauchery_ ," she grinned, then watched as a pack of particularly attractive people walked by in well-fitting jeans and skimpy tops. "So many fine, athletic specimens. And you like specimens. C'mon, let's dance."

I had to chuckle. "You know I need to work up to dancing," I reminded her. "I'll be at the bar, having a drink and getting… acclimated. You go dance, I'll join you soon."

With a quick eyeroll, smirk and kiss on my cheek, she ran off into the crowd, followed by most of our friends.

"What do you want to drink," Klaus asked, and I started a little, not realizing he had stayed behind with me.

"Euhh… wine?" I was a little nonplussed. My friends had been teasing me that he had a crush on me. It was not reciprocated.

"Oh, come on," he laughed, "it's Friday night, and we're out of school at this club, how about something stronger?"

"Okay," I shrugged. "You pick. But nothing gross like shots of Jägermeister." He ruffled his brow at this, but walked to the bar. I trailed behind, grabbing a stool just as someone else left it, and watching the people on the dance floor.

The crowd was thicker than I was used to, and I decided that a stronger drink would probably be a help to my nerves. The mood was boisterous, and it was true that there seemed to be a lot of fit people there. Not that I was surprised, knowing that members of several ski teams were training there, including the aforementioned Americans. I tried to look at it from my best friend's point of view, picking out the ones I found attractive, wondering if I would have the nerve to dance near the boys I liked, beginning to understand the effect I had on many men, but not being certain or used to it. My eye was caught by a swirl of light.

Near the center of the dancefloor, a small girl whirled. I wouldn't have seen her if the crowd hadn't parted a bit, despite the club not being packed yet, due to her stature. But there she was, and the light was coming from her. She held two glowsticks, and had another glowing tube interwoven in her hair, which was in a long, high ponytail of dreads. She wore hugely baggy pants, but a small, tight, cropped tank top that showed off some impressive abs. I wondered if she was one of the athletes. She seemed to be in her own world, caught up in the music, turning and dipping, her arms constantly moving fluidly, weaving patterns of light. I hadn't ever seen anyone quite like her. Despite my travels, I was still sheltered, in many ways.

"Delphine, here you go," Klaus prompted from beside me, and as I turned he handed me a drink. I took a sip. It was deceptively sweet, citrusy, but I could tell hard liquor lurked beneath. At least it wasn't Jägermeister.

He proceeded to chat me up as I divided my attention between his flirtations, my drink and the dancefloor. He generally seemed like a nice guy, but I could tell the drinking was loosening him up, as well. He leaned closer and began touching my arm as he talked. I didn't want to be rude, but my monosyllabic responses didn't seem to dissuade him, and when I finished my drink, I told him, trying for an airy tone, that I was ready to join our friends on the dancefloor.

"Hey," he said, grabbing my wrist that was on the bar, and I realized from his bleary-eyed gaze than he was probably farther gone than I'd realized. "How about one more drink first? C'mon." He signalled to the bartender. I was getting uncomfortable. Something told me that his urge to imbibe wasn't just to have a good time or get over any shyness he had. Perhaps he was hoping to get me drunk so I would be more… sociable.

"Listen, no thank you, Klaus, I…"

"Two Long Island Iced Teas," he was telling the bartender, and I felt someone brush against me on my other side.

"I have something better," came an oddly pleasing feminine voice just below and beside me. "How 'bout some water?"

It was the girl with the glowsticks. She peered at me through her large glasses and gave me a joyful, riveting smile. The fine sheen of sweat on her skin from dancing only seemed to make her glow, as well.

"Huh?" Klaus turned beside me, then saw her and laughed. "Water? Are you kidding?"

"Nope," she answered, with a small pop of her lips, and held up a large, colourful water bottle. "Best to stay hydrated. I can get you a glass, or a straw to share mine, if you like." Her accent was lazy, drawn out, clearly American. Her eyebrows raised in the most fetching way.

"Em, yes," I told her, not even sure when I had decided to speak, "I think I… that would be very good. I _am_ thirsty."

She gave me one of those smiles a lot like the ones my best friend sometimes gave me. It was kind, but also sly, and perhaps a bit teasing.

"Great," she patted the bar and the bartender plopped down a tall glass of water, embellished by a wedge of lemon. She tossed a few bills on the counter and handed me the glass, cocking her head.

"C'mon, I wanna show you something," she said, and barely touched my elbow. Before I knew it, I was on my feet and following her to the other side of the dance club.

"Thank you. What did you want to show me," I asked her, glancing around, when we reached a small seating area by the opposite wall.

"Nothing," she said. "I just wanted to get you away from him. It looked like he didn't want to take no for an answer. Was he harassing you?"

"Hmm," I took a long drink of my water, suddenly feeling parched. "I wouldn't say… harassing might be too harsh a word," I reasoned, "but I did want to get away."

"I figured," she nodded. "Anyway, who knows with guys like that once they have a few more drinks, am I right? Or girls, for that matter." She tipped me a wink.

My brain seemed to have slowed down, and I couldn't really get what she was saying, or how she wanted me to respond. I crinkled my brow.

"Nevermind. Anyway, hi. I'm Cosima," she grinned, giving me a small wave.

"Oh. I'm Delphine," I answered, and I think I surprised her when I grasped her hand to shake it. "Enchantée."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I don't even know, with this story. If there are any problems with it, kindly complain to tatarrific on tumblr. ;)**

 **P.S.: If you think I'm paying homage to any other cophine writers at any point in this, I probably am.**

* * *

"So, I haven't seen you around," the trim brunette with large glasses noted, as I sipped my water. "Are you here to watch the competition, or on vacation?"

"Em, niether," I answered, letting my straw go with my lips too quickly so that it snapped upwards and spattered droplets on my lower lip and chin. I blushed, hoping she hadn't been paying attention to my clumsiness. Unfortunately, from the grin that crossed her face and her small laugh, she must have seen it. Before I gathered myself, she reached up with a cocktail napkin and dabbed my lip and chin. I must have looked deflated, because her voice was warm when she said:

"Hey, don't sweat it. That was kinda cute." I didn't know why, but I found myself grinning back.

"Sorry, and thanks," I said, "I can just be a little clumsy." She looked me up and down appraisingly, but only shrugged.

"Yeah, well, we all can."

I had lost my train of thought, and she cleared her throat slightly, breaking me out of my idiotic grinning spell.

"So, neither of those, eh? Okay, so what are you doing at the resort?"

"Oh! I'm, well, I'm here for the party, with some friends. We go out when we get a break, sometimes."

"A break from… school," she asked and I nodded quickly.

"Yes, we're from the boarding school not far from here. My friends, um, they like to get out and have fun and dance, you know?"

The way she kept smiling at me with her head cocked, I couldn't tell if she was laughing at me inside or just very friendly. She _did_ have an American accent, and they tend to be outgoing.

"And you," she prompted.

"And me…? Oh, yes I like to dance, too." I giggled at myself and ran a hand through my hair, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I just, I think that last drink was a little strong."

She nodded, and gave a little "oh," herself.

"Well, are you okay? Do you need to sit down, or get a little fresh air? Drinking your water should help."

"It's not that bad," I assured her, chuckling at myself, but then was interrupted by a hiccough. This time a real laugh burst out of her mouth, though she closed it quickly. "Okay, maybe getting some air wouldn't be a bad idea."

With a small nod and that delightful grin, she reached out her hand and lightly took mine. She turned and pulled me behind her to the nearest exit door, and within moments we were in a little courtyard, snow on the grass, pavement that dried, crackly-grey colour it gets after it's been salted, and the sky above us full of stars.

When she reached the middle of the courtyard, she tilted her head back and looked up. Her face looked open, delighted. In the cold air, a fine, smoke-like mist rose off her hot, sweaty skin, but she didn't seem to mind. I leaned my head back and looked, too.

"Wow," she breathed, and let out a little sigh. "No matter how many times I'm up here on a clear night, I can never get over the view." I took in the panoramic spread of bright points of light in the velvet sky. I had seen it before, but not often. It seemed I had always chosen to remain indoors, in the lab or my dorm room, and even when I was outside, I turned my gaze down.

"It is lovely, isn't it," I murmured, and when she was silent for a moment I turned, only to find her looking right at me.

"Yeah, it is," she said, and there was something in her gaze, above her half-smile, eyes low-lidded yet penetrating, that made me blush and look away.

"Sooo, Delphine," she said, in a more chatty tone, after a moment. "Are you Swiss-French? French-French? French-Canadian?"

"Ah, French... just French," I nodded. "And you? I'm guessing American or Canadian, unless you're just really good with English."

"Mm, American. I'm from San Fran, sooo... we really like to party, you know?" She reached into one of her deep pockets and pulled out a lighter and little plastic baggie holding a marijuana cigarette.

"A joint," I asked her, a little surprised. "You pulled me outside for being tipsy and now you want me to get high?" She held up a placating hand.

"Noooo, no no no. I'm not trying to push it on you, only offering. No pressure at all, dude, I promise." She pulled out the small paper stick and held it up like she was showing me her gun was unloaded, then placed it in the corner of her mouth. "Besides, drunk and high, two completely different things. And everything in moderation." She raised the lighter halfway, then paused. "Do you mind?"

I took a quick, slightly nervous look around, but the coast was clear. Anyway, it wasn't like we were on the school campus.

"Um, no, go ahead."

She nodded and lit the tip of the joint, moving it to the center of her lips and taking a slow, deep drag. I found myself watching the movements of her mouth, her full, slightly pouty lips pulling then pressing together as she held in the hit, then pursing slighty to let out a slow stream of white smoke. She cocked an eyebrow and tilted the end of the reefer toward me slightly.

"Are you sure you don't want any? You're looking sort of... intense." I shook my head to clear it.

"Non, non," I answered, then dug into my small purse and pulled out my pack of cigarettes, showing then to her and then pulling one out. Before I could reach into my bag again she flicked on the lighter and held it up for me, cupping it in one hand. I leaned closer, shielding the flame with my hand from the other side, lightly touching her fingers, and then inhaling as the tip of my cigarette touched the flame, turning the end into a glowing ember. I took a drag and then leaned back, blowing out, smiling a little, though I wasn't sure why. It was she who now looked "a little intense."

"Of course," she finally said, and licked her lips. "Never get between a French person and her cigarettes."

"Oui, c'est vrai," I said through my creeping grin, and we just looked at each other for a moment, watching each other take lazy drags.

It was funny, to me, because for a moment I didn't feel awkward at all, just looking at a stranger who was looking at me. I didn't feel a pressure to talk, or act a certain way, or try to figure out what this person wanted, what I would have to do in order for them to be nice to me, find me interesting. It just felt like she already did.

Then a smile crept across her face, and I was smiling, too. We were just looking at each other, grinning like idiots. Or not like idiots — more like we had both discovered something at the same time. As if, somehow, the simple act looking at one another was like sharing a thousand words.

I felt an odd thrumming inside me, a little drop in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly I felt nervous, and I had to look down.

"Em, so what about you," I managed, though my tongue felt thick. "You haven't told me if you're here for vacation or the competition, or..." I gave a slight shrug.

"Oh, the competition," she nodded. "I'm on the U.S. team."

I looked up at her again.

"Really? You are a competitive skier?"

"Um, yeah, no," she began, confusing me a bit, "I'm a snowboarder."

"Ohh, like in the, in the 'X Games,'" I asked. I was not very educated about non-traditional sports.

"Yeah, like in the X Games," she grinned at me, as if I had made the most astute observation in the world, "and also the Olympics, as of the last one."

"Right, in Japan," I nodded, eager not to seem too ignorant. "So, you are going to the Olympics?" She let out a little chuckle combined with a snort.

"Well, I don't know. That's a little ways off. Besides, I'm on the Junior World team. At least for now. Could be that I'll make it to the Olympic team, but, like, I don't count my chickens, you know?"

I couldn't help but chuckle, myself. That idiom had always amused me, and somehow, hearing her say it in her uniquely-inflected way made it all the more charming.

"Well, forgive me if I'm being rude," I rambled, "but is it really a good idea for you to be, ah, _toking_ before a competition?"

She let out a little snort and cough mid-inhaling, and her chuckling made the stream of smoke stutter as it came out.

"' _Toking_ ,'" she asked in an exaggerated,questioning tone, and I could tell she was mocking me, again. I shrugged and let out a little sigh through a small, embarrassed smile, but she reached out and took my hand lightly, stepping a little closer.

"You're so cute," she grinned, and I found myself looking up through my eyelashes at her, then down again, an odd mixture of feelings running through me too fast to name. She looked at me, still for a moment, then licked her lips and continued.

"Well, this is the 'SwissAir Extreme Tournament,' not a world team or Olympic event. The rules are a little bit different, even if a lot of the same people are competing. Trust me, I know when I can 'toke' and how much. It's, uh, pretty much a part of the snowboarding culture, until the rules get in the way, as you might guess."

I looked back up at her and nodded.

"Are you… interested in that sort of competition," she inquired, looking a bit unsure.

"Em, well, I have watched some skiing and done some skiing, but I've only seen a little bit of snowboarding here and there, and not in a tournament, before," I explained. "I really, I spend a lot of time on my studies. I don't get out much, or do much sports. I just, you know, do some hiking or barre exercises now and then."

"Barre?"

"Oui, I mean, yes, as in ballet exercises. I used to take dance before I came here."

"I see. So you must be very graceful," she verbally prodded.

"No, not really," I tittered, blushing a bit. "It took a long time for me to be any good at it. I was messing up and falling all the time. Plus, you know, doing a choreographed dance or exercises is different from a, from an outdoor, competitive sport."

"Hm," she hummed, "mmkay." I paused to take a drag off my cigarette, and her eyes followed the entire motion, leaving another silence between us.

"Um, that is, I'm sure it is. Very interesting. Eum, exciting. Snowboarding, that is. I bet it's a lot of fun." I mentally chastised myself. Once again, what social skills I had with people my age seemed to be abandoning me. But her expression was warm, eyes crinkling.

"It is. Fun and exciting. So, you know, any time you wanna try it, or come see the competition, I can, uh, get you in."

"Really," I asked, and she nodded. "I think that would be, I think I'd like that… if you'd like to help me."

"Of course," she nodded, her teeth parting until the tip of her tongue poked out. "Yeah, anytime. Next weekend, tomorrow…"

I'm not sure how we had moved so close together. It was fairly cold out, and I remember hugging myself and rubbing my sleeves. Her bare arms were prickled with gooseflesh, but she didn't seem to notice or mind. She finished her last drag and pinched the ember off the end of her joint, fiddling with her plastic bag for a moment. I realized I was chewing my lip, and tried to stop, knowing that was a bad habit. She rolled the tiny nub of paper into the baggie and looked up at me again, and suddenly we were so close that the fog of our breath in the cool air intermingled, and the backs of our hands brushed together.

There was a loud bang behind me and I startled, turning around. It was the sound of the door hitting the stopper after being thrust quickly open. Through it came Aida, arm around another girl I did not know. They we both laughing hard, looking at each other, so much that they didn't notice us right away, and then, started a bit themselves as they saw us and pulled up straight.

"Oh. Hi," my best friend exclaimed, and I smiled back at her. "You getting some air, too?"

"Yes," I nodded, "hello. It was getting stuffy in there." I turned to face the American now beside me. "Cosima, this is my best friend, Aida. She made me come to this party."

"Hey, I'm Cosima," she offered, with a little wave, and Aida nodded back.

"Hey, uh… and this is Inge. We were just dancing and, yeah, it got pretty close in there, so…" I gave the other girl a welcoming smile. She was about as tall as me, maybe even a little taller, although more filled out, with that almost white blonde hair you see in Nordic people sometimes.

"Delphine," I said, extending my hand, "enchantée." She shook my hand, and responded with a gracious expression, saying it was nice to meet me.

I was happy to see my friend, but I couldn't help notice that an odd, awkward sort of silence descended around us for just a fraction of time. Cosima was glancing between the three of us, looking a bit uncomfortable, but I couldn't fully read her expression. Aida brought her hands together in front of herself and rubbed them as if to warm them, a funny, little, tight grin on her face.

"So…" she began.

"Hey, so I'm getting kind of cold, now," Cosima interjected. "I think I'm gonna go back in. Um, Delphine, you're welcome to come with me, or hang out with your friends, whatever you want. And then, you know, if you decide you want to see the games, you can just catch me inside or call the hotel. I'm the only Cosima competing, so… yeah."

I stammered for a moment, nonplussed. I didn't understand the odd energy of the moment, particularly between the two brunette girls.

"Hey," Aida said, after a beat, "whatever you guys want. We were just gonna cool off a bit and have a little… foreign exchange… conversation." I giggled a bit, though I wasn't sure why.

"Well, I'm getting a little cold, myself," I told them, "so, I'll go in. But I think I'm ready to dance if you want to, when you come back in," I directed at Aida.

There were nods and "okays" all around, and then I found myself extinguishing my cigarette butt and following Cosima back through the door, into the dark, warm, throbbing disco. I momentarily had to stop and blink my eyes so I could see, and when my vision cleared she was leaning on the wall, sipping her water, again.

"So, that's your best friend, huh," she asked.

"Yes, she's wonderful," I answered. "We're lab partners in science, too. She doesn't always, em, follow the rules to the letter, but she is so funny and very kind, ever since we first met."

"Hm," she answered with a short nod, her expression unreadable in the flickering lights. "Lab partners, too, eh?"

"Yes," I acknowledged, then suddenly felt a little bashful. "Science is, eh, my favourite subject. I hope to do research, someday, probably on immune responses."

Her eyes brightened and she straightened up, grinning again.

"You don't say," she said. "I _love_ science. If I weren't doing competitions, I'd be doing that. Tell me all about it…"


	3. Chapter 3

When I went to the party, I didn't expect to spend over an hour talking about science to a stranger, much less a daring athlete. Yet, there we were, still in the corner much later, sipping on water and straining our voices over the music. Cosima, it turned out, still kept up with her studies while training and touring, but she had a love for biology that spurred her to delve into it in her limited free time. Some of her teammates called her "Darwin" as a nickname, and she got scolded by her coaches by not getting enough sleep because she stayed up reading papers, studies and books on science. She listened intently to me when I described what I had been studying and what fields interested me, often breaking out into a wide, genuine smile. I picked up my water and realized in quick succession that it was empty, that I wasn't sure how many glasses I'd downed, and that I had passed the worst of my drunkeness. It was a good thing I hadn't had another sip, because she wound up a science joke she'd been telling just at that minute, and I might have spit it out as I laughed.

"'No tern unstoned?' That's terrible!" I managed through my giggles.

"If it's so terrible, then why are you laughing," she grinned. I worked to reach the point where I could speak again, then said:

"I don't know! I think it's you. You're just funny. And you like to get stoned and then you're telling a joke about getting stoned and it's not even the punchline so much as, as imagining you out getting stoned with a bunch of birds and then all wobbling around in a… goofy way all over the place."

"A goofy way," she mock-huffed. "I will have you know I'm very graceful when I'm high. It's actually when I'm stressed out that's the problem!"

"How do you mean?"

"I think too hard sometimes. My brain goes out in all directions and my body isn't finished doing what it's in the middle of, yet. I wish I could say it's only when I mess up in competition, but sometimes I'll just be walking along and so lost in thought that I fall over a curb, or something."

"So that's what you meant by anyone can be clumsy," I noted. "I thought you were just trying to be nice to me."

"Okay, one, Delphine Cormier, I have plenty of experience with bumbling around, and second, I'm hurt and offended that you would think I was lying just to make you feel better. You think that I'm dishonest?"

"No, no," I laughed, and her gaze turned slightly serious, fully drawing my eyes to meet hers, and her voice came out a bit softer.

"It isn't hard to be nice to you, Delphine. I don't have to _try._ I just want to."

I felt a warmth flush my cheeks, touched by her words.

"Well, I can't imagine you being that clumsy. You are an athlete, and I've seen how you dance," I pointed out.

"Yeah? Well, why don't you come dance with me and we can be not-that-clumsy together?"

I suddenly felt hot, the back of my neck prickling with sweat, and I realized I was nervous. After seeing how she moved, I couldn't help but worry she'd think I was pretty pathetic.

She leaned a little closer as I failed to reply and she reached out and touched my hand that was clutching my knee.

"Hey. I can hear you brain working overtime from here. You don't have to if you really don't want to. But you don't have to be shy with me, Delphine. I like you. I'm having a really good time with you."

I felt a smile creeping up my face before I could even look up at her, again. I could tell she wasn't just being kind. She was too sincere.

"Well, then… _oui,_ " I grinned, "let's go dance. But don't sue me if I step on you and you can't ski, um, snowboard in the competition." She laughed.

"I'm pretty sure Swiss law doesn't cover that, unless you do it on purpose." She took my hand in hers and stood up, nodding toward the floor. "C'mon."

We wound our way through the crowd, her leading, until we came to a place with a little room just off the center of the crowd. She turned to face me, giving me a big grin while still holding my hand, and began to rock easily, side to side. I still felt a bit self-conscious, but I joined her, and then the song cross-faded into another one, and the bass began to undulate, rising and falling in a flowing pattern, reverberating through the air and my entire body. Her face lit up and she began to move more loosely, gently letting go of my hand, and before I knew it, I was lost in the rhythm. Maybe I was still more inebriated than I thought, or maybe it was just because of her, but I began to feel comfortable, closing my eyes and letting my hips and shoulders roll with the music. I heard her let out a cheery yell of "yeah!" My smile grew, and I opened my eyes, and she was grinning at me, dancing in her own pattern, not as wildly as she had before, but joyfully, giving me room to move with her in my own fashion.

Again I lost track of time. The song faded into another and the lights pulsed, and the people sweated and swayed around me. I felt deliciously in touch with my own body, the way it wanted to move and what felt good, and at the same time in some way, via warmth or throbbing beats or even pheromones, as if I was in touch with the other people, too. We all wanted the same thing, to move, to be free, to get out of our heads, and, I was beginning to realize, to feel a little _sexy._

I found my arms raising, hands running through and pushing back my dampening hair, and it was as though I could see myself as attractive the way others told me I was, as if I could see through the eyes of the boys who stared at me, and understand what they felt. I felt so _in touch_ with my body, my self-consciousness sinking beneath what felt like some inexplicable, primal power, and I liked it. I was biting my lip from the sensation, as I slowly opened my eyes, and Cosima was there, closer than she had been, looking at me as if she could feel it, too. She didn't touch me, but as we swayed and turned I felt we fell into sync, and I smiled at her, feeling the bond that had been forming as we talked take on a new dimension, something physical. It was like I felt sometimes when I danced with my other friends, a happy connectedness, but it was different, too. I didn't know why, and wondered if maybe it was just because we liked each other so quickly, or because we'd been intoxicated, or she was just a really, really good dancer, and sort of pulled me along with her with her eyes and gestures.

I stepped a little closer to her, and I couldn't help but smile. I was mimicking the way I had seen other people dance sensually, and it somehow didn't feel awkward at all. I bent my knees, swaying down into a dip toward the floor, and her smile grew, too, watching me. I turned as I rose and one of her hands touched my waist, and we moved together, rocking, her front just against my back, warm and responsive. Part of me wanted to laugh, just because I was having so much _fun_ , but another part felt something else, like a tingling on my skin, like feeling the full satisfaction of taking deep, slow breaths, like my heart beating in time with the music.

And then Klaus was in front of me.

"Hey," he yelled, leaning forward with a goofy, drunken smile, "here you are. Everyone's been dancing together. Come join us, we miss you."

My body stiffened and stopped quite suddenly. I had to catch my breath.

"Oh. Oh," I said, hand pressed to my chest. I realized my back was cooler, and Cosima had stepped away, just a little behind and to one side of me. I felt some of my usual awkwardness come back, making my body feel heavy. "... I was just dancing with my friend here, Cosima. Cosima, you met Klaus."

I glanced back at her, and she nodded, her expression flat, eyes looking a little guarded, suspicious. I realized she was being protective of me.

"Hey," was all she said.

"Hey," Klaus said back, with a similarly removed tone. He looked back at me, holding out his hand, and then dropping it. "I think your friends are worried about you. You kind of disappeared. Come on and say hi to them."

As pleasant as I had been feeling before, I felt an opposite sort of unease. I felt flustered, maybe a little guilty for being a bad friend, and also as though I had finally settled in to feeling comfortable and enjoying my night, and now was being pulled in another direction. I looked back at Cosima.

"Em, my friends are really nice. I'm sure they'd like to meet you. Would you like to come?"

Her face remained stoic for a moment, and then she gave me a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Sure," she said. "Lead on, Macduff."

I didn't quite catch her meaning, but I gave her a smile in return, hopefully a reassuring one, and took her hand to bring her with me.

My little group did seem to be having a good time dancing, and I was greeted by "heys" and cheery smiles when we reached them. I had to do the round of introductions, which took some confused repetitions and shouting over the music.

"Where's Aida," I asked.

Heather and Monica exchanged an odd little glance, then Heather answered.

"Who knows? She went outside with that Inge girl, hasn't been back since. Probably just hanging out with her."

Monica giggled suddenly and then patted my shoulder.

"I'm sure we'll see her later. You having fun? Wanna dance?"

"Hells yeah," Cosima answered for me, making me laugh, and we joined in with the group, bouncing in a more kinetic way than we had when it was just us, and breaking off to cheer on our friends when they broke out a dance move, everyone laughing and having a good time. It wasn't often I got to be with a group of people in a social setting and didn't feel too awkward, like I didn't fit in, so it was quite nice for me. I knew this clutch of people would be fun, but I also felt like I was enjoying myself more than usual, and I couldn't help but think that might have something to do with Cosima. Something about her, her cute face, the way she danced and laughed, how informal and easy and encouraging she was with everyone. She was quite charming, but somehow I also felt like I had been the lucky one to meet her first, like she was _my_ new friend and was meeting all the others through me, with me, that we had a connection. I couldn't help but notice how she would subtly position her body in a way to block Klaus if he started to get too close to me, and I laughed aloud.

"It's okay, Cosima, I think he's pretty harmless," I shouted, moving my mouth close to her ear.

"I don't know about that," she rejoined. "He's pretty drunk, and he's already stepped on my foot twice." We both laughed again at that, and I squeezed her arm with my hand. Just then, there was another voice at my ear.

"Hey." It startled me, even though I realized it was Aida before I turned.

"Hi," I grinned, pulling her in for a hug, "you've been gone for a while. Are you having a good time?"

"Yeah," she answered, though there seemed to be something tense about her. I stopped dancing and gave her an inquiring look.

"I have to go to the bathroom. Wanna come with," she asked.

"Okay, sure," I nodded. This was standard procedure, the restroom visit as a short break from the volume of music and the people, where we could check in with each other and share funny or notable things that had happened. I turned around, and caught Cosima's eye, then gestured, indicating Aida and I were running off for a few minutes. She nodded and gave a little wave, then turned to dance facing Heather.

Aida and I held hands making our way through the crowd, staying linked together. It definitely seemed as though the room had gotten more full. We came to a hallway and the inevitable bathroom line and joined the end of it, leaning against the wall to catch our breath.

"You seem to be having a good time," she commented, as the line shuffled forward.

"Oui, I'm really glad you convinced me to go, after all. Although I feel as though I've barely seen you since we've been here," I teased with a laugh.

"Yeah," was all she said, with a small shrug, and something seemed off, like she was thinking hard about something, or upset. The line moved forward and we made it into the small lounge area before the toilet stalls, the fabric of the rug and upholstered seating muffling the outside noise further. I leaned against the wall next to her again and gave her my full attention, eyebrows raising. She rubbed the back of her neck for a second, then said:

"Listen, that girl you've been hanging with? I don't know if you know this, but… um… she's gay."

"What," I asked, perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"She's _gay_. As in… like, a _lesbian_. And it looks like she likes you." There was a pause wherein we stared at each other, me trying to catch up, her seeming uncomfortable. "As in, _like_ likes, you.

Like she finds you attractive."

My mouth worked for a moment. I felt all prickly, as though I'd done something awkward and everyone was staring at me, as though I had had the wool pulled over my eyes, and then was exposed.

"What," I asked again, then, "no, no…" She was looking into my eyes quite seriously. "... _really_? But, how do you know that?"

"It's, ah," she sighed. "You haven't noticed? The way she looks at you? I mean, trust me."

I took this in, still feeling like I lagged behind somewhere, as though I'd been in some sort of dream state before and was coming to a rude awakening.

"Oh," I murmured. My fingers came together to pick at my nails. "Well… but that… that shouldn't matter, should it? I mean, I'm not prejudiced. We could, it just just be friendly, right? If I don't show an interest?"

"Well, yeah," she said, through some hesitance, "probably. But uh, you know, the way you've been acting with her could be misinterpreted…"

"Oh," I exhaled again, feeling the warmth of shame pinking my face, looking at the ground. I chewed my lip. My best friend said nothing. The line moved forward a bit again.

"I guess, uh, thanks. I didn't know I was behaving… I'll have to make sure she doesn't get the…" I trailed off. I was having trouble processing this, stringing it all together.

"The wrong idea," she finished for me, the end of it raised in a question.

"Yeah," I said. "Yes. Thanks for… looking out for me."

She seemed a bit awkward herself, as though she might say something more, but then she was at the front of the line, and a few stalls opened. She just gave me a small quirk of her eyebrows, and entered one, closing the door behind her.


	4. Chapter 4

I stayed in the bathroom much longer than I had planned.

For a while, I just sat in the stall, in some sort of stasis of confusion. Cosima liked me? Cosima _liked_ me? Cosima liked _me_? Had she been flirting with me? Had I been flirting with her? I didn't know what to feel. Should I feel stupid? I definitely felt stupid, and embarrassed, and mortified that at least one, if not more, of my friends saw that I was clueless and seemed to be leading the charming athlete on. Mon dieu, was I the only one not to know?

Of course, it shouldn't be a big deal, I told myself. I'm not prejudiced. I had been taught better than that by my family. It could, of course, be a little awkward, but I should be able to tell her… to _indicate_ to her, somehow, without being… rude or stupid, that I'm not… _that way._ Then we could be friends, right? That wouldn't make her walk away and end any chance of us being friends, would it? Because I liked her. I really, _really,_ liked her… she was so, well, _cool_ , and quirky and different. She lived in a world of daring international competition, and still knew so much about science, could talk with me at length about it, really make me feel understood, and then make me laugh. Surely she could also like me just as a person? After all, what would she see in me…?

Oh. Would she… would she see the same things that boys do, have seemed to have started… liking? I bit my lip, wondering. Did she think I was attractive? Did she think I was… beautiful?

I must have spaced out for a moment, I don't know how long, but then I realized I was hogging a stall that people really needed to use. I finished what I was doing — how long had I been in there thinking with my underpants down my legs? — and wandered out. I caught myself still lost in thought, washing my hands slower and for much longer than I needed to. I looked at myself in the mirror. It was a little dim in there, and there were lots of girls coming and going, but I really looked, trying to see myself from the outside, as others might see me. Maybe I could see what they might find attractive? Maybe I could see how I had acted might seem like… flirting? A developing crush?

I knew I could be shy, socially awkward, on my guard, especially with people my age. I had done a lot of work to get over that… the feelings of self-criticism, low self esteem, depression. I was not the same person I had been just a few years ago, I told myself… not even several months ago. I didn't want to slip back into that. If I wanted to get to know Cosima better, maybe make a new friend, I had to pull myself together. There was nothing wrong with me being friendly, and finding her interesting and compelling. If she got… a certain impression, it didn't have to be too weird, or anything other than an honest, relatively small mistake. If I behaved in an open, honest way and just… hung out with her, everything should be fine, right? Because I wanted to. I wanted to hang out with her more. A lot.

I felt a discomfiting buzzing in my lower belly, and even… further below. It was like I had swallowed an egg timer and it was going off. I felt embarrassed, although I had only been looking into the mirror. No-one had heard my thoughts. I was doing nothing wrong. I was staring at the sink, and it felt like I was being drawn down it, into a whirlpool of muddy thoughts I couldn't name, couldn't entertain. I remember some tricks I had learned from my therapist and took some slow, deep breaths, counting down from five.

 _Nothing is wrong here,_ I told myself. _This is all totally normal. Stay in the moment, and everything will be fine._ I needed a little bit more than that. _Soon I'll be taking my last test before holiday. I'm sure I will do very well because I have prepared, and then I'll get to spend a lot of time with mėmė and pepėrè_ , I recited in my head. I walked to the paper towel dispenser and dried my hands. I raised my head and looked around, wondering if Aida was still there, somewhere, had waited for me. But I knew, of course, I had taken too long.

 _I like her,_ my mind's voice suddenly piped up, and the image of Cosima smiling at me, dancing, came into my head. I took another breath. Nothing has changed since you left the dancefloor for the bathroom, I reassured myself, everything is fine. You're doing nothing wrong. Just act like nothing happened, like no-one told you anything, and keep being friendly. Just… watch what you do. Be clear about your boundaries. Maybe nothing will ever happen because Aida was wrong or, or I won't even ever see Cosima again because we just met for one night and she had her sport to think about. Right. That last thought, I wasn't sure if it was a relief or made me feel disappointed. I had to stop dwelling on it, though. That was the old Delphine. I could go out and act natural. I could do this. Everything would be fine.

I made my way back into the hallway, toward the main room of the club. Everything seemed a little weirder, the room a little darker, the lights a little flashier, the people more loud, drunk, packed together, flailing around. I spotted Monica and Heather through the crowd and picked my way through the crowd toward them.

"Hey," they said in unison, as I arrived.

"Hi," I said. I looked around. A couple more people in our group were dancing, but no Cosima, no Aida.

"Where did Aida go," I asked them, feeling a bit unmoored. Heather shrugged.

"I dunno, I think she said she was gonna go outside again for a while. Everything okay? You've been away for a little while. We started to wonder."

"Oh, no, it's fine," I answered, composing my face, and trying not to be too obvious about continuing to look around, attempting to spy the missing women. "Um, my stomach was a little upset. Probably a little too much drinking, but it passed. I'm alright."

"Oh, yuck. Did you puke," Monica asked, and I shook my head, putting on what I thought was a reassuring smile.

"Non," I said, "I just needed a little time and a little water." I paused and licked my lips. "What about Cosima? Did she go outside?"

"Nah," Heather answered, tilting her head in the direction of the bar. "She went to get something to drink. She said she'd be back. I think she's been talking to Klaus over there."

I craned my neck. Klaus's tall, gangly body and his shock of blond hair were easy to spot, but I had a move a bit to see that the person he was leaning slightly down towards was Cosima. They stood next to the bar, each with a drink on it next to them, and Cosima was talking, waving around and gesturing with her hands, as she did. Suddenly, it was as if she felt me looking at her, and she turned her head in my direction, then flashed me a smile. She looked back to Klaus and said something, picking up her drink, and he responded. They talked briefly and then she was making her way to me, picking through the crowd, carefully maneuvering so as to not get hit by moving bodies and spill her drink. She kept smiling all the way as she walked toward me, and then she was in front of me, and she just barely touched my upper arm.

"Hey," she said. "I was wondering where you got to. Had to have a little break and a girl talk?"

I nodded, and noticed a second later that I was smiling, too. As I realized how my face had moved without my knowledge, I probably drew my eyebrows together a bit before I consciously reminded myself to act natural, relax.

"I, euh, I didn't expect you would be talking with Klaus," I managed, grateful that that at least had given me a new topic and a moment to _not_ think about what Aida said.

"Ah. Yeah, well. We're cool," she shrugged, pushing her glasses more snugly up her nose.

"Oui," I asked with a slight smirk. "You no longer think he's a dangerous predator?"

"Well, I...," she paused for a moment. "I just don't think it's cool when people try to get other people drunk so they can, like, mack on them."

"'Mack on them,'" I repeated, a small giggle bubbling out of me despite my nerves in the lavatory. "Is that what he was doing?"

"Eh, he swears he's a 'gentleman,' but I still think he was trying to pour more liquor than you wanted down your throat." She gave me a small smile, and even though I was teasing I suddenly felt grateful to her.

"So that's all? You're my hero? Do you spend your time making sure girls don't get too drunk?"

Her grin widened, and she looked down for a second, her tone turning self-deprecating.

"Sometimes, yeah," she stated.

Before my head caught up to my body I impulsively stepped a little closer to her, and gently poked her arm. I leaned in to her ear.

"Are you Batman," I stage-whispered through a chuckle, and I noticed her hair smelled sweet, like some sort of tropical fruit.

"Ha," she laughed, and nodded. "Now you've caught me. Don't tell anyone you know me or your life could be in danger."

I suddenly realized I could feel the warmth radiating off her cheek onto mine. What was I thinking? I needed to pay better attention. I leaned back, arms crossed.

"Ah, excuse me, but I'm pretty sure your job is to rescue people in danger."

"Okay," she spread her hands, "good point. "But I already did that at least once tonight."

"What do you mean, 'at least,'" I parried, raising my eyebrow.

She went right along with me.

"Hey, first I saved you from getting completely blotto," she said, raising one finger. "And thennn..." She slowly raised her second finger. "I saved you from boredom."

This made me laugh.

"That's an interesting theory you've got there," I responded, trying to look skeptical despite my lips wanting to smile. "You're convinced I would have been bored without you? You do know I'm here with friends, yes?"

"Hey, I call 'em like I see 'em," she retorted with a smile. "And you could use a new friend. I mean, don't you think-" Abruptly she cut herself off, and took a sip of her drink, then made a little face I couldn't quite read, and turned her head to look towards the bar. "Nevermind," she said.

"What," I asked, and while I felt we were just trading minor barbs for fun, an unexpected urgency came over me that it was very important to know what she'd had to say, why she turned away.

"Well, your friend did leave with someone..." she shrugged, looking into her drink again. Her voice was just above a mumble. Both my eyebrows lifted, now.

"What," I laughed. "She's allowed to do whatever she wants, and she came back," I pointed out, although after I said it, something about our discussion, what had happened, seemed off. What Aida had said about Cosima rose back up in me, and I struggled for a moment with myself not to get embarrassed, to tell myself I was acting perfectly normal. "Besides," I shrugged, willfully nonchalant, "I seem to recall it was I who left first, with you."

She looked up at me from beneath her brow, and I couldn't tell if she was smiling a little bit or not.

"That's true," she acknowledged, and she looked at me without speaking for moment before glancing back at the bar. I could see her still her body for a moment, then expand her chest, taking a breath, still turned away from me. Then she turned back and cocked her head, her face in a smirk that seemed tenuous. When she spoke, her voice seemed like it might carry many things: humour, nervousness, and maybe a hint of hope.

"Anyway," she said, "I'm not too worried about Klaus. I mean, I can't blame the guy just because we have the same taste in women."

 _Merde_.


End file.
